Silence
by oneapotheosis
Summary: "Silence remains, inescapably, a form of speech." Post 2.15.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I've held onto this for a while, mainly because I'm so unsure of it - I'm wringing my hands over it. I thought about how that episode ended, and honestly I wanted a little more. I'd like a second chapter, but I'm still unsure on how to to _get_ there. Please leave reviews, they make me feel nice inside.

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Sitting perfectly still in the armchair in the corner of their bedroom, Henry rested his laptop on his knees. He watched quietly as Elizabeth stepped in front of the vanity mirror, just having left the shower with a towel wrapped around her body. She stopped to look at herself, fingering damp hair as she squinted, scrutinising her appearance. Brows furrowed, he could tell she was thinking. He watched the woman he loved curiously, wondering what was clouding her intricate mind.

She released her grip from the towel and let it fall to the floor. Henry was captivated once again, unable to look away as he watched her. She'd always been beautiful, there was no question of that; Henry wondered if he'd forgotten to remind her of that lately. His eyes traced the slope of her slender neck, down her shoulders, waist and the curve of her hip.

She turned so her back was facing the mirror and peeked around, running a hand down the left side of her back. She stopped and seemed to focus on something, tracing gentle fingertips over the same spot. It dawned on him. _Iran._ The laceration scar that she'd been left with. Henry suddenly felt guilty. He'd ogled her whilst she was reliving such a significant point of insecurity. He looked down, ashamed. It wasn't so much the scar itself. Physically it was relatively small, and it had healed neatly, stretching only around five to six centimetres in length. He knew the physicality of it was not what brought her to it, and was _not_ what conveyed such darkness now.

He peeked up again, and caught her piercing glare. It was a mixed expression, confusing and cryptic. _Frightened._ He recoiled from its intensity, looking down again. They'd never avoided conversion like this, in fact, Henry couldn't recall the last time he'd looked away from such an expression without explanation. He saw her sink away in his peripheries, returning to the mirror to apply moisturisers to her skin.

The scar was a constant reminder that he'd nearly lost her. That their bond had been on a knifes edge, and the tipping point so steep. It changed him. It changed _her_. His stomach twisted in knots now, and he frowned, expelling a breath he didn't realise he was holding.

His hospital stay had triggered her. The realisation hit him heavily and he felt his chest tighten at the thought. She thought he was going to die. She thought she'd never see him or touch him again. The waves of guilt surfaced again and Henry reflected on how he'd acted towards her earlier in the evening. He had no right to accuse her of monopolising him, he knew that now, but he was angry and flight driven. At the time, He couldn't understand why she'd want to prevent him from being part of it – to help capture the responsible parties. He'd lashed out at a time when she simply needed him close and nothing more, yet he tempted her with the prospect of further danger. Henry wanted to apologise, to give her the reassurance she deserved. If anything, she'd aided him in being as close as possible to the operation, she'd allowed him that much. He wanted to go to her, to say something, _anything_ to make it right, but he was stuck; He was angry and uncertain why or _who_ it was directed at. _She doesn't deserve this._

-o-

Elizabeth stared back at the woman in the mirror; familiar yet seemingly someone she didn't even know anymore. She blinked a few times, letting her brain affirm that she was, in fact, seeing her own reflection.

She sighed and released her towel, staring back at her nude form. Closing her eyes only for a second, she saw the bright lights – the flash of colour and debris. Elizabeth forced her eyes back open, wide, blue eyes looking straight back as she held her breath. It had been some time. It had been an almost equal amount of time since she'd had a panic-attack. Her heart fluttered and she let the air rush from her lungs. The sensation was almost familiar, and the movie that played on a loop when she closed her eyes was burned into her subconscious. It was never anything specific, the details never quite recognisable, but it was always the same. It always _felt_ the same.

Turning around slowly, she knew what she would see. Just above her waist on the left side of her back ran a thin, fibrous line. It was raised a little and slightly paler than the rest of her skin. It wasn't unsightly, and she had plenty of scars on her body from her childhood. Growing up, her and Will always played and explored outside before their parents died. Those scars, despite the loss of her parents were always remembered with fondness.

She didn't look at this mark with the same nostalgic fondness. It reminded her of the fragility of life. It reminded her that she'd come so close to losing it all. It made her _sick_. She'd hurt Henry. She'd known the risk and still left him. _It's your fault._ Elizabeth couldn't help but compare how she felt now to how he must have felt; waiting, watching and the silence. _So quiet._ She'd just got him back, and he seemed more distant than ever. She wanted nothing more than to run to him, to be held in his embrace, welcomed in the safest place on earth. It was clear to her that he did not want that, at least, not now. _You shouldn't have interfered. It's your fault._

Elizabeth could feel his eyes on her. She blinked back a tear and steeled herself, turning her head to look at him. She met his eyes only for a moment. Hard and critical, he shunned her gaze almost immediately. _Disgust?_ She cowered from his hard look. Her stomach churned and she swallowed thickly. She'd wanted to talk to him. Anything to break the deafening silence they now felt only metres from one another. She couldn't face him. _He can't even look at you._

-o-

Eyes wide open, they lay with their backs to one another. Trying to remain still as possible as not to disturb the other, they waited for sleep to overcome them. Henry reached his arm between them, searching for her, silently asking her permission to hold her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw his hand, taking it in her own and squeezing gently, giving herself up. He rolled over and spooned her, reaching a strong arm over her middle, pulling her closer as he buried his nose in her hair, inhaling her scent, allowing it to calm him. Elizabeth sighed quietly as a single tear rolled down her cheek. She gripped his arm and pulled it tighter around her, finally letting her tired eyes fall closed. "I love you." Henry spoke softly. It was the first time he'd spoken to her in hours.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thank you everyone for your delightful reviews on the previous chapter, I've never really written anything like this before, so it's definitely encouraging to get feedback - criticisms are good too! So I'm still not entirely sure how I want to play it out, plot is not my strength, but I did want to drag the first bit out a little more. I don't intend for this to be hundreds of chapters long, but I'd like to eventually give it a resolution. It's a little short, but that's sort of how it works for me. I hope it's a pleasant read!

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05:50 -

Henry rolled over to find Elizabeth facing away from him. He glanced at the clock, knowing she would wake soon. Reluctantly, he rolled out of the bed and headed for the shower.

The water was hot; Too hot, but he let it cascade down his back, scalding his skin and making the wounds on his hands sting. Henry was usually a man of vivid thought, thriving in the quiet time of reflection. Now, he dreaded that time. Since his work with DIA, he'd been forced to only allow his thoughts to echo in his own, crowded subconscious. That was proving to be hard habit to break, and it'd bled into his emotional stressors. He felt trapped and suffocated by his own mind. _You can talk now_. Henry felt he didn't want to now, he'd been bitten before. They both had. They _could_ discuss their work now, but it seemed the damage was already done.

It wasn't just the legal ramifications that made him hesitant. Henry felt that Elizabeth already had enough on her plate without him offloading his own, comparatively menial problems onto her. It was hurting her, and he could see it. Elizabeth would never complain, even when they fought, she never condemned him personally and rarely lashed out in anger. He felt guilty, unable to grant her the same respect of recent times.

-o-

 _Henry rounded the corner, she was rummaging through the refrigerator, and he stood close, blocking her exit. "Did you block me at DIA?" He was frowning, lips pursed._

 _"Excuse me?" She spun, surprised to find him so close._

 _"I was rejected. Somebody had their finger on the scale."_

 _"I didn't have my finger on any scale… " Elizabeth turned away from his scrutinising glare, moving around the island bench, creating distance between them._

 _"Yeah but you weren't exactly thrilled about me rejoining." He tossed his glasses on the bench angrily. "Did you say anything to Ephraim Ware or Russell?"_

 _"Are you actually accusing me here?"_

 _"Maybe you just complained about me rejoining and they took it from there." He moved as he spoke, facing up to her again._

 _"I don't complain about you, Henry. Not anywhere, not at work and I'm starting to feel attacked!"_

 _"Well I'm feeling played because it makes no sense."_

 _She sighed, meeting his eyes, her own were wide and pleading, cornered again. "I'm on your side —"_

 _"Good. Then call the President, and ask him to reinstate me." She recoiled from the coldness in his tone. She couldn't believe he was asking her to make that call, and she was relieved when her phone rang, giving her an escape._

-o-

Elizabeth was always conscientious and hard working, but her stubbornness often lead to her trapping everything inside, until she couldn't hold it in any longer. Henry encouraged her to be open and talk through her emotions, but he knew there was always things she'd hold onto; He would be there to pick up the pieces, always. She wouldn't speak of the fear she'd felt when Henry was in the hospital. Much like Henry, she didn't want him to burden him. He knew these things. He would have to make the fist move.

Henry clothed himself and grabbed the dressing kit he'd been given at the hospital, producing two new crepe bandages, once for each blistered hand. He didn't want to make a fuss, and if it were up to him, he'd not bother, but the cold air stung the excoriated skin and still bled a little. He sat on the cornered arm-chair and attempted to bandage his hands. He'd underestimated the difficulty of wrapping his own hands, the roll fell to the ground and unraveled. Frustrated, he moved quickly to try and recover it, knocking raw wound on the chair. He yanked the hand back and hissed at the pain.

Consumed by his own thoughts, he hadn't noticed her moving towards him. He was surprised to see her standing in front of him, she'd moved so quietly. Picking up the grounded fabric, Elizabeth crouched in front of Henry, taking his hand in hers. She began to gently bandage his hand, meeting his eyes for a moment, they'd softened as he looked at her. She took the other and repeated the process which she was surprisingly proficient at.

-o-

Elizabeth loved caring for her husband, she often looked for opportunities to return what he always so willing gave to her. He'd looked startled when she bandaged his hands for him, and she wasn't sure it was the right move. Since when had they wondered if it was appropriate to touch one another. She stood again, moving to turn away but he stopped her, holding her hands in his.

"Come here." He beckoned, opening his arms. She didn't hesitate, moving to curl herself up, onto his lap. He was warm and surrounding and she felt small in his arms. Elizabeth breathed in his scent deeply.

"I'm sorry." Henry whispered into her hair.

"Me too."

She knew that wasn't the end of it, that there was so much more to be said, but now wasn't the time for it.

"Elizabeth. We need to talk." As the words left his mouth, he recognised the coldness in his voice, but it was too late to take back.

Panic struck her, her stomach knotted uncomfortably. She _hated_ that sentence, but she didn't know why. There were so many things that needed to be said, and none of them she wanted to delve into. _No, no. Please._ She wriggled, trying to free herself. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest as he resisted her movements.

"Henry." She gasped, the fear evident in her voice as she began to pant. She met his eyes briefly, the welled tears threatening to spill.

Realising he was scaring her, he released her immediately. She pushed off of him and fled to the bathroom. Shutting the door, she slid down to the floor and brought her knees up. The tears began to stream as she tried to regulate her breathing. _You wanted him to talk. Now he wants to._ She was nothing without her family, yet the universe kept tempting her, pushing just enough to make her question everything she thought she knew. She couldn't believe the irrationality that coursed through her. For someone so logical and intellectually driven, she couldn't grasp the concept of a panic-attack. There _was_ no imminent threat, yet her body was screaming with every fibre of her being to run and fight. Her _husband_ wanted to talk to her. Her husband who _loved_ her _,_ more than his own life. Deep down, she knew what he'd say, what he wanted to discuss.

-o-

Henry watched in disbelief as his wife disappeared behind the door. He was unable to curb the hurt plastered on his face. He wanted to go to her, but knew it would only make things worse. She would come around to him, he knew that, but he didn't know it would take her this long. His arms fell limp at his sides as he listened to her quiet sobs. The muffled sound struck him deep inside, every gut-wrenching heave of her breath.

-o-

13:00 -

Elizabeth glanced up from the document she was viewing, looking at her phone as the screen lit up, displaying Henry's name. She stared at it as it vibrated menacingly until the call ended. _You can't keep avoiding him like this_. She sighed heavily. She'd made up her mind, she wanted to forget everything that happened that morning, but she would simply have to face it. She owed Henry that much, and she couldn't bare the thought that she was still hurting him, even in her absence. She quickly typed out a text addressed to him: "Can't talk now. I will be home by 7. I promise we will talk then. I love you."

 _You lied to him._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Finally! Sorry I'm slow, I get so many ideas in my head and it's hard to focus. I don't think I'm finished, but I like it to be segmented. I hope this is a pleasant read. As always, comments and critique are welcome and enjoyed.

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It was 21:30 by the time Elizabeth made it home that night. As the SUV pulled up at her home, she glanced nervously at her watch. She was late, again. _Will he be angry?_ She knew he'd still be awake, though she'd hoped he wasn't. Elizabeth wrung her hands and sighed heavily, she said goodnight to her security and moved inside.

Peeking into the living area, she saw Henry sitting on the couch. He must have heard her enter, turning his head and meeting her eyes. He stood quickly and moved towards her.

"Where have you been?" His tone was even and unassuming, but as he moved closer, Elizabeth flinched and took a step back, looking down at the floor. "Hey…" He reached for her again, extending his hand. _Don't be kind to me, Henry._ She'd braced for the chastising that would never come. He took her trembling hand in his. "I know you weren't in a meeting. You don't have your phone on you in meetings." She tried to pull her hand back, but he held it, giving her a gentle squeeze. She still stared at the floor, not knowing how to face him. "I'm… I'm sorry I scared you. And… I'm sorry I'm scaring you now." He released her hand, it fell to her side.

She finally met his eyes "You're not." her voice betrayed her though. He moved back into the living room, beckoning her to follow. She sat across from him on the three-seater, pulling off her tall heels and crossing her legs. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Henry spoke. She'd thought long and hard about what she would say to Henry. She'd had all day to think about it, and she was taken off-guard when he spoke first.

"Elizabeth… I shouldn't have accused you of interfering. I'm sorry I didn't trust you. I was wrong."

Her chest squeezed tight as she remembered what he was referring to. He'd made her feel like he _didn't_ trust her, like he thought she was actually capable for using her position to manipulate him. It hurt, but she felt he was justified. How _could_ he trust her after Iran? _You left it all behind._

"I _do_ trust you. I was angry. I'm still…" He rubbed his face, trying to find the right words.

"You're still angry." she whispered.

"No, I mean I am, but not with you… I…"

"How could you _not_ be!" She raised her voice a little. Her throat felt tight as the panic began to rise again. The tears were welling. " _I_ went to Iran. I _knew_ the risks and I still went. I left you _and_ our children." She was shaking now, the tears rolled down her cheeks. _I'm sorry._ "I'm sorry!" She sobbed, turning her head away, unable to look him in the eye.

Henry looked stunned. He reached out to her but she scooted back, away from him. _Don't touch me!_

"I…did… that…" She gasped for breath, her eyes stung and her airways inflamed. "And you… It's like you're _punishing_ me!" _You deserve it._ She tried to keep her voice down, not daring to wake the kids, but she couldn't control the heaving breaths that escaped. Grief gripped her again. Shutting her eyes, she saw Abdol, hearing his blood curdling scream; She saw Marajel Javani's face. She often thought of Zahed and his family, nearly having done the same to her own family.

She couldn't look at him. She didn't know that his own tears were falling as he watched her helplessly. She moved to get up, to flee further conflict. Henry moved quickly, encircling her with his arms and pulling her to him, holding her against his body as he rested against the armrest. She was glad her back was to him as she cried, her face a mess, but her resistance was half-hearted. "Henry! I don't want to…"

"Elizabeth stop. Please." He pleaded with her. She ceased her wriggling and let out a huff, sniffing back her tears. "I'm not _punishing_ you. You're not being punished. Baby, please, stop _blaming_ yourself!" His voice was high and tense.

She opened her mouth to speak again, but he stopped her. "No, just listen to me. _Just_ listen." He squeezed her tight, his arms felt safe and secure, betraying her emotional state. "I know why you went. I _know_ you didn't have a choice, and I know that you wouldn't have gone if you weren't making the world a safer place. For all of us, for our children. It hurt me, it hurt _all_ of us, especially you." She could hear him speaking, and she understood his words, but it did nothing to quell the swirling guilt she felt deep in her belly. He pressed his warm cheek to hers, wet with tears. "But that has _nothing_ to do with why I went back into that building, and it has nothing to do with me wanting to rejoin DIA. I would _never_ do that to you."

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to halt the steady flow of her tears. She tried desperately to believe his words, she knew he was right. Henry was not a vengeful man, he was kind and reasonable, but she couldn't help but feel the two were connected. She sat still, trying to let his presence soothe her, trying to regain control of her rapid breathing. He body was still, but her mind was not.

-o-

She'd been quiet for an entire minute. Henry could feel her breaths steadying, but still she said nothing. "Elizabeth, please talk to me."

She shifted in his arms and he released his grip, letting her turn to face him. They now sat cross-legged, facing one another again. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying. He swallowed thickly, guilty again. He'd never seen her so broken. He dipped his head, seeking her eyes. She met them briefly before shying away.

"When you were in the hospital…" He could see the tears welling again. "I couldn't help but think about… I was so scared. Henry, what if It hadn't been a limited exposure? What if you…" She shook her head, looking into his eyes.

"What If I'd died?" He finished for her. She blinked her tears back, and looked him straight in the eye.

"Yes." Her voice sounded tired and hoarse. She needed to sleep, but he knew she needed this. They both did.

He took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the soft skin, reassuring her. He wanted to speak, to help her find the words that were clearly stuck in her throat, but he knew this was hers, and that _she_ needed to say it to him.

"I know you did what you had to. You did the right thing. You saved that woman's life."

"Yes, but that doesn't make your feelings invalid."

"It's selfish of me…" _Of course she would feel selfish. "_ Henry, I can't do this alone. I can't lose you." She looked away, fiddling with the fabric of her blouse.

He took a deep breath, squeezing her hand, nodding. He was so in tune with her, he knew she would adopt his rate and breathe with him. _You'll never be alone._ He wanted to interrupt again, to insist that she was safe, that he would be there, but he let her speak.

"I don't know who I _am_ … I'm _nothing_ without you." Her voice broke over her last words. He couldn't bear to hear her say things like that, to _think_ that about herself. His heart broke all over again, reaching out to her, desperate to protect her from herself.

"Come on, come here." Henry pulled her into his lap, cradling her against his chest. She felt so small in his arms; Vulnerable like a child. She clutched at his shirt, quiet tears staining the fabric. "You are _not_ nothing. You are _everything_ to me, and you are everything to our beautiful children." He rubbed her back, feeling her body release some tension. "You are strong, intelligent, gorgeous, and the most beautifully minded woman I've even known. You were this woman when I first met you, and _every_ day after I've fallen deeper in love with you."

Elizabeth looked up at him, her eyes still shimmered with tears. The sight squeezed his heart, and it fluttered at her proximity. Henry slowly leaned down and pressed his lips to her cheek, tasting her salty tears. He gave her a watery smile as she leaned into him. "I love you. You still take my breath away. Every. Day." _I'll never leave you._

She nodded, tears rolling now for different reasons. "I love you too." Her voice was raspy and barely audible, but he heard her. Her body spoke what she was unable to describe in words. He would hear her even if she never spoke again.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Greetings, friends. I'm still plodding along with this, and I'm a little slow with the writing, I know. Hope you like it, and remember to review because it makes me smile like a fool. Critique and suggestions are welcome!

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Henry tossed and turned, unable to quell his racing thoughts. Haunting him even in his subconscious, the pictures were distorted and frightening. He was asleep, well, in some way; Unable to wake himself, he would gain no rest tonight. Henry saw Elizabeth in his dream. They were in a room, somewhere he couldn't quite make out, it was dark and she was walking ahead of him, turning her head to look back at him. He reached out to her, but he couldn't catch her. She turned again, her eyes were heavy and distant, as though she couldn't see him. She called his name, her voice panicked. He tried to respond, but his cries were silent, he couldn't make a sound. It was blindingly bright suddenly, and she fell, crying out to him for help. He screamed her name, but she couldn't hear him and kept falling, sinking into nothing. His legs were heavy, dragging him into the ground. _Elizabeth! Please! Baby, please don't leave me!_ He felt himself falling suddenly.

Henry lurched forward, his eyes flew open. He stared straight ahead as he gasped for breath. His chest heaved and his body cold and drenched with sweat. Henry could hear his heart racing in his ears, he felt _sick._ His eyes stung and tears of tension began to stream down his cheeks. Swallowing thickly, his throat was tight. It felt like he couldn't breathe. His eyes darted around the room, searching frantically for something familiar and tangible, something to confirm that he was awake. His gaze whipped to his left, searching for her. He was faced with wide, fearful eyes as she stared at him, her lips parted slightly. She was sitting upright, facing him.

"Henry, baby." She whispered, and a single tear slid down her cheek.

" _Elizabeth_.." He whimpered her name, he finally heard his own voice, desperate and vulnerable. His arms lay limply at his sides, paralysed.

She reached out, pulling him into her arms. Elizabeth cradled her husband as he cried silently. He didn't have the mind to consider the irony of her comforting him. He'd never felt so small, so powerless. She was real, she was there. The sound of her heart beating under his ear pressed tight against her chest was the only thing grounding him. She stroked his hair, smoothing it down at the ends. It was her turn to protect _him_.

"I'm here. It's okay. I love you."

He held on to her tight, afraid that if he didn't, she'd slip away and he'd find himself back in that place. Elizabeth gently pulled him to lie down with her, keeping his head against her chest. His breathing slowed, and he could feel his heart returning to a steady rhythm. She swallowed the lump in her throat, blinking back her tears before speaking.

"Tell me."

He understood her question, but he didn't want to make her feel guilty. She would take responsibility, and blame herself again. He was quiet for a minute, but he knew he had to talk to her; He owed her that. _Not talking is how we got here._ He rubbed his face, swiping the tears away.

"You… You were falling, and I couldn't catch you, I couldn't get to you in time." Henry choked back tears again. It wasn't so much the pictures he saw in his mind that haunted him, but trapped in that moment, in that dark place, he'd never felt fear quite like that; It was suffocating. "I couldn't protect you."

She was silent for a moment, considering her words. "You can't protect me from everything, Henry." She was stung by her own thought; She couldn't protect _him_.

Henry held onto her as he slowly drifted back to sleep, the fatigue finally consuming him. He was safe in her arms for now and listened to the steady beating of her heart, allowing it to soothe him. Elizabeth was soon to follow, unable to hold her tired eyes open any longer.

-o-

Elizabeth woke before Henry. Glancing down in a sleepy daze, she found Henry still resting peacefully against her side. He'd moved some in his sleep, but an arm still draped over her stomach. Her heart swelled at the sight, and she reached down to gently caress his face, sweeping his mussed hair gently off of his forehead. She was afraid to leave the comfort of their bed; Afraid that once they commenced their day again, the spell would be broken. Carefully moving his arm, she left the safe warmth of their bed.

Stepping from the shower, she found herself in front of the mirror in her underwear, staring back, still trying to understand the woman in front of her, wondering when the reflection had become her enemy. She felt herself drawn to that same point on her back. Looking away from the mirror, she twisted awkwardly to inspect it again. She felt him before hearing him, as he moved to stand behind her. He touched a gentle hand to the blemish, tracing his fingers over the raised line. She looked up and met his eyes in their reflection. She feared what she'd find in his eyes. _Disappointment? Disgust?_. She found no such thing in his soft, somber expression. Only fatigue, and dark, puffy circles from lack of rest. He shifted his hands to encircle her waist, pulling her close against his body, burying his nose into the crook of her neck.

"That scar is _not_ a fault, Elizabeth." He mumbled into her neck.

"I know." Even as she said the words, she struggled to believe them and her voice trembled. She knew that _Henry_ knew better.

"It's a reminder of what you did for _us_ , what you did for your country."

She looked down again, the worry and sadness it brought clearly tinting her features. "What I did _to_ you…" She responded bitterly.

He ignored her self-depreciating quip. "It's proof of your strength. And you will never know how incredibly proud of you I am." He swallowed thickly, kissing her on the cheek, steadying his own thoughts. "Promise me you won't shut me out. Promise me that this is temporary."

She turned in his arms, pressing her head to his chest. "Only if you do."

He nodded, words seeming inadequate. They both knew that the moment they left the tight, secure sanctuary of their home that that the facade would have to be raised again; They'd only hoped that it remained a facade and didn't become a reality. They pretended for work, they pretended for the media and even for their children, and now raised the question if they could stop pretending for each other.

-o-

They made their way down the stairs and into the kitchen together, seamlessly integrating into the morning bustle with their children. Jason and Allison could tell when their parents fought, but weren't so observant around the more shielded conflict. Their eldest, however was very perceptive. Stevie could sense the tension between her parents. She did not want to intrude, and she certainly wasn't prying, but she wanted them to know that she cared. She moved towards her mother tentatively.

"Mum?" She touched her hand to Elizabeth's arm, and she turned to face her daughter.

"Hey sweetie. Everything okay?" Her face showed concern, worried that something was wrong. She read Stevie before she even spoke.

"Yeah, I… _Is_ everything okay? With you and Dad, I mean." She kept her voice low, not wanting to alert her siblings to their conversation. Elizabeth looked down briefly, giving herself away.

"Yes, honey. Dad and I are just a little stressed." She cupped Stevie's cheek and kissed her forehead. Stevie didn't push further, she knew her parents well enough to know that they would try to shield them, but she wanted her mum to know that she was listening, if necessary. Stevie nodded and continued preparing her breakfast.

Henry had witnessed the interaction, watching quietly from his position at the breakfast table. He smiled watching their eldest daughter. She'd grown into an intuitive, intelligent young woman. He could see Elizabeth in her, now more than ever. Elizabeth turned and caught his eye, giving him a small, knowing smile.

As Henry placed dishes into the sink, Elizabeth moved to him to say goodbye as she left for the office.

"I'll see you later, okay?" She touched his arm and moved to leave, but Henry caught her hand gently, giving it a squeeze. She turned to look at him questioningly.

"I love you." He gave her a tight smile.

She dampened her hurry, turning to meet his eyes properly. "Love you too." She moved in close and kissed him tenderly on the lips, feeling his eyes flutter closed. She made him forget for a moment, and he allowed her to, breathing in her essence. She squeezed his hand reassuringly before turning to leave for the day.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Hello, friends. I know it's been a while, I struggle a bit with progression sometimes. I really hope that this still makes sense and that you'll bear with me, especially given the time hops. I know it's a little disjointed, but it's not exactly _plot_ centred, more of a thought exploration. I will hopefully be able to give them a resolution, or at least put them back together a little bit. Thank you all for your patience, those who read and review, and those who read and don't review, I love you just the same. Pleasant reading!

* * *

Elizabeth flopped down into her oversized chair, dropping the wad of paperwork onto the desk in front of her. They were sending Murphy Station to Pakistan. She was frustrated and terrified. This was _precisely_ what she was trying to avoid. She needed Henry _out_ of the line of fire, quite literally. In a way, it was through her own doing. _It always comes back around._ There was no way Henry would turn the opportunity down; no way he would cop-out now. He needed to finish the job, and she wanted them to, but did it _have_ to include Henry?

She would not interfere again. He was doing the right thing and she _did_ trust him. He'd met her half way attending their appointment with Dr. Sherman, and was pleasantly surprise when he'd said that he thought it was a good step. That had to be a good sign, and they had been communicating better. It hadn't come without further struggles, and sounds did not necessarily constitute substance. They were making noise, but whether they were getting through to one another was another question.

As much as Henry would deny it, a lot of this _was_ about Dimitri, and now he'd confirmed her fears. She wished there was something she could do for Talia Petrov, and it pained her that some of the motivation to help Dimitri's sister was selfish; she wanted Henry back, she wanted to _fix_ him. Of course he didn't want to talk to her about it, it was something that she'd indirectly caused.

Now he was throwing himself into another redemption mission, and he was frustratingly flippant about it. She knew he was not taking the decision lightly, but she wished that he would share a little more; that he could show some sign of fear or at least acknowledge the obvious risk. Henry needed to do this. Elizabeth knew that he was the kind of man that believed in redemption. He believed that his actions needed to be equal and just. This would be no different. They _would_ talk before he left, but it would be the kind where the things that really need to be said would simply not. She rubbed her face and checked her watch. She would leave for home soon, and she wished she didn't have to. The sooner the day ended, the closer they were to being that much further apart again.

-o-

 _You can tell me not to go, you know._

They lay beside one another, savouring the few quiet minutes before Henry had to leave for Pakistan. Elizabeth rolled on her side to face Henry.

"Please don't go." She whispered, swallowing the tears that tried to surface. _Please don't leave me. I wish I never had._

He knew she wasn't blocking him, that she simply needed to acknowledge her fear. He needed it too. The evening had transpired very similarly to when she left for Iran, and she couldn't help but feel a little hypocritical. Henry had required much more coaxing than she, but she was sure that her swirling emotions were similar to what he'd experienced. The night she left for Iran was one of the reasons she _knew_ she had to let him go to Pakistan.

"I _will_ come back."

 _Henry, come on. I'm gonna be okay._

Those words were familiar. She _did_ come back. She had been injured, but she was right in the end. She returned, and so would he. She only hoped that they wouldn't lose what they'd struggled so hard to regain. Talking had always come so easily, and it was the great strength of their Marriage, but she'd seen what happened when that was taken from them. She didn't want to go back to that place.

He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her middle. He let a hand trace under the fabric of her shirt, brushing his fingertips over the blemish on her back. Henry kissed her softly, providing her with the closeness she craved, as he had before.

-o-

Elizabeth watched and waited. She wondered how Henry had coped when she was in Iran. He'd had no information, no contact and no way of knowing if she was even alive. She wasn't sure her front row seat to _his_ operation was any better. She was surprised when it was Russell Jackson who suggested the abort the mission.

"Mr President, there are riots raging throughout Islamabad, I'm questioning the wisdom of leaving three high value assets to take out this terrorist in a rapidly deteriorating situation, while we have bigger fish to fry."

"You want to abort the Disah mission?"

"As much as I would love to light that son-of-a-bitch up, Render Safe has to be our priority."

"Elizabeth?" The president turned to face her, asking _her_ of all people to make such a decision.

"I think we should back Murphy Station's play, Sir."

"Walk and chew gum at the same time it is, then. Lets get it done. All of it."

 _Sometimes you gotta walk and chew gum_. She remembered hearing the words, first from Russell. She wouldn't pull Henry out, he'd never forgive her. She trusted him, and she needed him to know that. If Henry was harmed, she'd never forgive _herself_ , but she couldn't live without him knowing that she always had faith in him. He would love her no matter what, and it was something that time nor distance could diminish. She swallowed her tears and held her head high. She knew her husband would return.

-o-

They entered the foyer together, hand in hand. Henry had just arrived home from Islamabad, and naturally, Elizabeth wanted to be present for his arrival. They'd talked a little in the car on the way home, but she was mostly just glad to have him back. As they entered the house, he dropped her hand and continued ahead, as though nothing had changed. It seemed that the safest, most familiar place was where they communicated the least. _You stop talking once it's truly you and I._ The truth was that when they're were at home together, there was no hope for being saved by an ill-timed interruption. No work task requiring immediate attention to take priority over the things that they _should_ say but never would. They'd grown accustomed to the interruption, expecting it in a way, and when it didn't come, it was just the two of them. She stood in the foyer, alone, watching him disappear up the stairs.

It wasn't in Henry's nature to be avoidant, but he was afraid of himself. He didn't trust his words like he used to, and Elizabeth had always placed such great weight on them, as had he; it seemed wiser to avoid them all together when the risk of hurting the one they loved the most was so high. The last time things had burst through the seems left them both hurt and confused. She wondered if he still saw his own failure in her face; if he could _look_ at her without the tainting regret and betrayal.

She followed Henry up the stairs. Elizabeth wasn't seeking an argument, but she couldn't stand by again, some things just needed to be said. He promised her that they wouldn't do this to one another. He was sitting on their bed, ratting through his backpack, sorting items of clothing and tossing them into the wash-basket. She stood in the doorway for a moment, just watching him. He seemed different, yet another version of the man she loved, another version that she would love unconditionally.

"Henry."

He looked up, meeting her eyes. When she was silent, he held out his hands, offering her his embrace. She moved in swiftly, letting his arms wrap around her as she cradled his head against her.

 _Come back to me._


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Hey guys, thank you all for your lovely reviews throughout this. It's not really in my nature to write multi-chaptered things, and so I've appreciated the support and encouragement. This is the last chapter, and I've agonised over it for a while. I _really_ hope I've done it some justice and given some form of closure and I hope it's not disappointing. I didn't want it to move too quick, but it seems that's sort of my style. Thank you all so much for reading. As always, you're reviews are valued and loved. Now it's time for bed (it's 10am and I still haven't. Yep, you'd better believe it). Pleasant reading!

* * *

Henry breathed in her warm, familiar scent, letting her essence wash over him for the moment. He was relieved to be home and in Elizabeth's arms. He was relieved that it was _over_.

"Henry, I…" She sighed heavily as he looked up to meet her eyes. She tried to speak, but the words caught in the back of her throat.

He waited, watching the array of emotions cross her features in the matter of seconds. She thought for a moment, clearly trying to make up her mind before gripping the back of his neck and crashing her lips to his.

He made a surprised sound as she pounced, straddling him and pushing him down to the bed, her hands pulling at his clothing.

"'Lizabeth…" He tried to speak against her lips, but she was unrelenting. He pushed her back, trying to create some distance.

He wanted to talk, but it was clear that she was beyond that. He met her movements for a moment, letting his hands wander. _We can't do this._ Her kisses were vicious and hurried and she reached for his shirt again, pulling at the buttons with fumbling hands.

"Elizabeth." He pushed her back again.

She released a frustrated huff and sat up, quickly unbuttoning her blouse, almost ripping them in her haste. He reached for her arms and stilled them firmly, pulling them down and away from her body.

"Elizabeth! Stop trying to take your clothes off!"

It was his raised voice that broke her daze, and she stopped suddenly, letting her hands fall limply at her sides. Her eyes fell to meet his, wide, and shining with unshed tears. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say, so he said nothing. She hung her head, and averted his gaze, now ashamed of her actions. Swinging her leg off of him, she flopped down onto her back, creating distance between them.

He watched her carefully as she stared straight up at the ceiling, desperately trying to stop the tears that began to stream down her cheeks.

"Elizabeth, hey…" He sat up reaching for her, but she moved to sit and scooted back against the headboard, hugging her knees.

"Don't." She raised her palm to him defensively.

Henry dropped his extended hand, and it was his turn to shrink away.

"Why don't you _want_ me anymore, Henry?!" Her voice high and tight.

"What?" Her words stunned him, he couldn't understand.

"You don't touch me, you don't _talk_ to me anymore!" She was sobbing now, making her nose and eyes puffy. She couldn't see his face properly through the tears, so she didn't look at all.

"Baby, that's not true!" He moved closer moving his hand to rub her foot.

"I'm not talking about _touching_ me, Henry!" She emphasised her point, pulling her foot away. This wasn't how she'd wanted it to happen. He looked helpless, his instinct was to pull her close and squeeze her tight, but she flinched away from his light touch.

"Then wha—"

"We haven't had _sex_ since the bomb at the conference!" She was almost yelling now.

She was right, but it just hadn't felt right. Even on their tiredest days, they would make time for one another, but now, a kiss on the cheek followed by rolling their backs to one another had become routine. He was afraid in a way; afraid for her to _see_ him, knowing that she would. There was no one that knew Henry better. He didn't want her to see it in his eyes, knowing she'd blame herself.

"Is this really about the sex?!" He was unaware that he was matching her volume.

She rubbed her face, swiping the tears away. "You won't even look at me. Is it my body too, or just my _face_?" She spat. She regretted the words immediately, seeing the hurt in his eyes.

A deafining silence fell over them and Henry looked down, initially indignant, his mind swirled with guilt and regret. The minutes passed and Elizabeth couldn't bear it.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "I didn't mean that."

He swallowed thickly and turned to her, considering his words carefully. "When did we become this?"

"I just want to be close to you." She avoided his eyes. Her words delivered another blow, Henry thought he even felt a little winded.

He moved to sit in front of her, crossing his legs. "Me too, but not like that _._ "

"Not being _intimate_ with me?" She lowered her voice, trying to let go of the pain she felt.

"No. Not when we're using it to avoid talking to each other."

"Henry, I've been _trying_ to talk to you for weeks!" She wiped another tear before it could spill.

He nodded slowly, rubbing his face and releasing a heavy sigh. "Yeah, I know." He admitted. She was right again, but not for the reasons she clearly thought. He reached out to touch her feet, gently pulling them from their curled position and into his lap, rubbing them softly. This was damaging her, it was damaging them. He needed to at least try.

"I haven't…"— He cleared his throat "I haven't felt _right_ for a while." She finally sought his eyes, but now it was he who was struggling to keep eye contact. "After everything that's happened, after some of the things I've said to you, I didn't want you to blame yourself." His chest felt tight and he swallowed his own tears.

Elizabeth hated seeing her husband like this, she hated what this had done to him and wished she could take his burden upon herself.

"I was afraid. I am afraid that you'll _see_ me, like you always do. You see straight through me and I was scared that…"— He felt his voice crack over the words "…you'd see someone who you couldn't love anymore." He'd never felt more vulnerable than in that moment, and his stomach twisted nervously.

His admission gripped her heart, breaking it all over again. For several minutes, she was unable to do anything but stare back at him. _Why won't you just talk to me!_ She pulled her feet from his grip. He met her eyes, holding out her hand. He took it and moved swiftly to sit beside her, resting against the headboard. She snuggled into his side, resting her head against his shoulder. His stomach churned with every passing second that she was silent.

"Henry, you _are_ the man I love. I love you. I will always love you." Her voice shook with the weight of Henry's words. She kissed his cheek. "Things change, and god knows we've been tested, but I can always find the man I married. I…I've missed you lately." She broke his gaze, taking her bottom lip between her teeth. "I know you're in there, somewhere." She gave him a watery smile, sniffling back the remnants of her tears.

He ghosted his lips over her ear. "I love you too, more than life itself."

She let her eyes slip closed. "I know."

"Tell me." He breathed. He needed her to know that he _was_ listening.

She took a deep breath. "We've never come so close to losing each other. I never thought I'd live a life like that. I was so scared, Henry. We can't… I can't keep…"

"I meant what I said." He turned to look at her again. She smiled back, knowing exactly what he was referring to,

"Be my couch potato for a while?"

"Yes. As long as you'll be mine." He chuckled.

She gave him a silly grin and playfully swatted his chest. He leaned down to press his lips against hers. "Okay." She whispered into his kiss. There was so much more to be said, and they both knew it, but when Henry moved to deepen the kiss, she allowed him to; they needed to take solace in one another, if only for a moment. Gentle hands threaded through her thick locks, and he pulled her to straddle his lap, kissing the life out of her. Tongues met and their bodies communicated what words were unable to. They pressed and pulled as their movements ignited the desire and adoration deep inside, from a place that was reserved only for them. Elizabeth pulled back a little to whisper huskily against him. "Make love to me." Her hot breath fanned over his face, and there was no force powerful enough on earth to make him deny her.

Henry heeded her request, he needed it too. He stripped her slowly and lovingly, as thought it were their first time again, before worshipping her with his lips and tongue. He knew every angle, line and curve of her body by heart, but still took the time to trace and explore, letting her do the same to him. When their bodies met, the air filled with the raw, honest sounds of their lovemaking; the world could wait, and nothing could permeate the safe, sacred space that existed between them. Elizabeth squirmed and writhed beneath him, as he protected and pleasured her as though his life depended on it.

The soon lay breathless in a tangle of limbs, completely void of energy; the weight of the day had taken it's toll. Elizabeth rested against his chest, feeling the heavy thump of his heart under her ear. They soon fell into a deep sleep, unable to bear anything less than the embrace of the other. No further words were spoken, but there would be time for that.

-o-

Elizabeth inspected her scar, noticing the way the light reflected off of the callused tissue, dropping her shirt back down, she turned to face the mirror again, surprised to see Henry standing behind her when she looked up. He wrapped his arms around her, leaning her body back against his. Some things couldn't be erased, and some things should never be erased.

She met his eyes in their reflection. "Do you still think about it, when you see me?" She spoke softly.

"Yes." He breathed, and she nodded. "I also see strength and courage. I see grief, and resilience. But foremost, I see the woman I love, and who loves me."

She turned in his arms. She didn't need the mirror to see herself, and smiled up at him.

"Was that the right answer?" he teased.

She giggled, and the light, joyous sound made his chest feel light. "Yeah."

He took her hands in his and lead her down the stairs to join their children in the morning routine. In a rare occurrence, Elizabeth had a few hours to herself that morning, and after the kids had left to begin their days, she spent that time with her husband.

Laying in Henry's arms as he read, she was content in the quiet, listening to the steady sounds of his breathing. Her mind was alight, as usual. It'd been a taxing week, and she'd barely been able to wrap her head around any of it; Dimitri, Disah, the _Vice Presidency._ Her mind quickly re-routed her to another thought. They were quite literally acting out the duty of the couch potato, sprawled lazily over the plush cushions. She giggled quietly at the absurdity of the phrase.

Henry placed his book aside, and removed his glasses.

"What?" He inquired with a smirk.

"I was just thinking about what an _insane_ week it's been."

He thought for a moment and pulled her closer, nuzzling into her neck. She covered his hands with hers, holding onto him.

They knew there was more that would come with time, but silence wasn't inherently detrimental. Silence remained, inescapably, a form of speech.

"What matters is that you came back to me."


End file.
